Gemotions

The museum was supposed to be a sanctuary. But the grand halls and hushed whispers did nothing to ease David’s distress. He wandered aimlessly, the exhibits blurring before his eyes. A woman, her arm bared, wore a meticulous tattoo of his "Celestial Dance" artwork. He felt a wrenching sensation in his chest.

His hands shook as he reached for a water fountain. The cool water did little to quell the rising heat in his cheeks. He retreated to a secluded bench, the ache in his chest growing with each passing moment. He had given so much of himself to his work, now it was everywhere, on someone else.

He felt utterly, completely alone.